


In the Light of Morning

by ilcuoreardendo



Series: Another Space and Time (Star Wars fics) [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, New Lovers, New Relationship, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Poor Obi-Wan, Romantic Fluff, Sweet, Sweet Mace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 14:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13483242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: Obi-Wan. Mace. The morning after.Mace resists the urge to grin. Mostly. “Forget about me?”





	In the Light of Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous requested "Morning After" from the [Tumblr Prompt List](http://ilcuoreardendo-fic.tumblr.com/post/168661264050/prompt-me).

* * *

Sunrise.

The light through the window coverings is pale, watery and makes the skin on Obi-Wan’s back so pale it seems translucent. Mace Windu strokes his fingers over the naked shoulders, the indentation of Obi-Wan’s spine, watches the young man stir and shift beneath the sheets, turning his face toward Mace.

He waits.

A moment later, Obi-Wan’s eyelids flutter open, closed, then open again, wide and flicking to Mace’s face.

Mace resists the urge to grin. Mostly. “Forget about me?”

“I—no. I—“

It’s almost flattering to see the young Master, who’s becoming so well known for his speeches and diplomacy, at a loss for words.

Mace does grin then and raises his hand to cup Obi-Wan’s jaw and slide his thumb across his lower lip, watch the minute shiver that goes through Obi-Wan’s body.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter shut. “I don’t…take many lovers,” he says. He opens his eyes. “And the ones I do. They…. Well, they tend to be gone in the morning.”

Obi-Wan delivers that last bit with nonchalance so perfect it seems practiced. Mace reaches out, curious, feels a faint mournful pulse in the Force that’s quickly quieted. He glimpses lovers past. Obi-Wan waking, rolling over in the stale dark of early morning hours, half expecting to find a warm embrace and instead finding empty sheets. A body sated. A soul not so much.

And Obi-Wan shoves the feelings into the Force, the loneliness, the abandonment, because he’s a Jedi first and he can’t expect anything more to come from these encounters, much as he might wish it were different.  

A soft gasp and Mace comes back to himself, finds Obi-Wan watching him from beneath his lashes, as if expecting rebuke for this weakness that Mace has discovered.

Mace shakes his head and slides into Obi-Wan’s space, wrapping his arms around the younger man and pulling him against his body, until they twine together like a Toydarian puzzle game.

“Being Jedi,” Mace says into Obi-Wan’s hair, “doesn’t mean we don’t need companionship. Doesn’t mean we don’t need love. It simply means we have a duty above those things and when conflict arises, when we’re called to go somewhere, we must know what to honor first. Understand?”

Silence.

Mace tucks his fingers under Obi-Wan’s chin and tilts his face back. “Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes are very blue in the morning light. “Yes.”

“Good.” Mace brushes his lips lightly against Obi-Wan’s. “And Obi-Wan. Unless duty calls, you’ll always find me here in the morning.”


End file.
